Revolutionary
by GermanRainbows
Summary: It's that time of year again, the 4th of July. England and America reflect on their feelings of this dreaded day.


**Warning: this is really depressing. I wrote it when I was in a bad mood a couple days ago! I don't own Hetalia... **

July 4th. The date stared hard and cold back at England. All week, he'd had dark feelings resurfacing. He's become anti-social, depressed, and angry. They all left him. He was alone.

First Canada on July 1st. It wasn't much of a loss, since the boy had favored the frog. Then three days later, America decided to declare his independence. This struck England much harder in the long run. England had practically raised America, for the most part. He was like a little brother, a son almost. He betrayed him. Sure he made certain laws for him, but he was only trying to protect him, right? He wanted to protect America and America hated him for it.

He broke away. England put up a fight, but he broke away all the same. Then the strongest empire in the world crumbled under the weight of the loss. He lost all his colonies. They all left him. He was alone. Then again, wasn't he always alone?

On the other side of the coin, America was ecstatic for his birthday. He loved the fireworks and the presents from other countries. France was always generous, along with Spain and the Italy's. The rest of the nations were polite enough. Yet, there was always someone missing. Someone America had looked up to since childhood.

This day celebrated a great day in America's life, when he became a true nation. When he swore to protect freedom and liberty. This day also celebrated a terrible and bloody war, where he fought England. His big brother. His parental figure. This was the day he hurt the one closest to him. England's enemy even helped him inflict the wounds onto him.

This was why when everyone left and the fireworks were done, Alfred would cry himself to sleep. He remembered everything so clearly. It was a curse. He would wonder if England missed him and decided against it. How could he miss me? he thought, I destroyed him. His empire fell ,and he felt as if it were his fault. I destroyed the British Empire. What kind of hero does that make me?

England was sulking in the corner, like every July 4th. He thought to himself about how much he missed his colonies. He wished Alfred would return to him so they could be a family again. Hell, he wished anyone would find him now and just hold him and tell him he wasn't alone. That someone cared for the sarcastic nation. Someone had to right? Someone out there could love him. He knew he was giving himself a false sense of hope.

He opened a bottle of rum and started taking in the contents of the bottle. His vision started blurring with tears. No one would love him, nobody cared. Everyone left. One by one. Everytime he turned to the drink for comfort.

Alfred's tears ran down his face and stained his pillow. He wished he could talk to someone, anyone. He couldn't show weakness to any country, no one would care anyways. They all thought he was a loud, fat, obnoxious kid. He curled into a ball and sobbed loudly. He missed England. When he had nightmares when he was little, England would chase them away with one of his fantasy tales about faeries and magic. He smiled at the memory, tears still streaming down his face.

_~Flashback~_

"_Ah! Iggy!" a little America cried. England entered the room hurriedly._

"_Whats the matter America?" England sat down in the bed next to America. America reached for him so England picked him up and set him in his lap. _

"_I had a bad nightmare that you got eaten by a big bad monster," cried the tiny nation. England sighed and hugged America close. _

"_It was just a dream,, Alfred," England murmured, and started rocking America back and forth to lull him back to sleep. _

"_Tell me a story Iggy? Please?" little Alfred asked tiredly. _

"_I can tell you about the time I went shopping with Tinkerbell and flying mint bunny! So one day I needed some ingredients for scones and flying mint bunny came with me to the market place..." after a few minutes of the tale, America's eyes fluttered shut. Tiny snores emitted from his mouth and England smiled. He tucked him back into bed and kissed his forehead goodnight. He was sure to shut the door quietly on the way out. _

_~End Flashback~_

England let a few tears out at the memory. He remembered those moments so well. The movie perfect moments that he had with his little brother. He missed them.

He missed the little Alfred that clung to him when it got dark outside. The one that would blabber on about his day and his pet rabbit. The one that promised he would be his friend forever.

The sad thing about promises, is that they're just words that can fade away. They can be broken much easier than they can be kept.

**Sad story is sad, da? Please review! Should I add another chapter to make it happier? **


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